


all the void behind my teeth

by krystian



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Kris (Deltarune), Hurt No Comfort, Possession, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), References to Depression, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Verbal Kris (Deltarune), you know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krystian/pseuds/krystian
Summary: Kris' SOUL doesn't belong to them - it never has and it never will.They should know by now that they're nothing more than a marionette, a toy to be played with only to be discarded at a later time.They should know better.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	all the void behind my teeth

**Author's Note:**

> first post of the year! and it's this... yeah.   
> i just recently re-played undertale (pacifist run for the 3rd because you can't stop me) and then I figured i'd check out deltarune and. i kinda vibe with kris (not because my name is krys but because they have emo hair and like. same) so i created this :)
> 
> title is taken from Son Lux's [Dangerous](https://youtu.be/wKRDTUwdVWg)

It’s always a white void, never anything else.

They know that by now. But if these are truly their dreams… then shouldn’t they be able to control them? At least to some degree?

_“Wake up.”_

They are already awake. Well, not awake-awake, but awake enough for it to count. Kris sighs, turning around, hands stuffed in their pockets.

“Why do you do this?”

The person across from them – if it even is a person, they can’t see their face – just chuckles quietly. Everything about them is obscured; they look neither young nor old, neither pretty nor ugly, neither inherently male nor female. They just exist, somewhere in between.

 _“Why shouldn’t I?”_ they say.

Kris shakes their head, running a hand through their hair. Not like that actually does anything in this place between sleep and consciousness. “What do you gain from this?”

They chuckle again, swaying lightly in a non-existent breeze.

_“I don’t gain anything from this, you’re right.”_

They don’t speak with malicious intent, but that doesn’t mean that Kris has to trust or like them. They’re dubious, only appearing in their sleep when their SOUL is trapped in the bird cage. “Then why don’t you just leave me alone?”

 _“Just for tonight,”_ they say.

They’re gone after that. Not truly gone. They can still feel their presence, as if something is lurking in the shadows. 

* * *

“Mom?” they say, sitting down at the table in the kitchen. There are too many chairs for the two of them. There always are. When Asriel-

Well, it doesn’t matter now. Asriel isn’t here.

_(Asriel, who had called them too touchy-feely, and laughed about it when they wouldn’t let go of his hand. not in a mean way. it still had felt bad, though. they just need the reassurance, they need to be sure the others are there, that they’re living creatures with their own minds. not like them)_

“What is it, my dear?” Toriel answers, cutting the pie. It’s Saturday, which means no school, which subsequently means that Kris can’t be too late even if they sleep until noon. Oh joy.

They fidget with their hands. “Does it sometimes feel as if- as if you’ve already experienced all of this? Before?” The kitchen is glowing in warm colours, amber and gold, as the sun hits the glass window at just the right angle.

“Like a déjà vu?” she asks, plating the pie. The scent of butterscotch wafts through the kitchen. “Of course; I think everyone experiences them from time to time.”

_No, not like a déjà vu._

“I guess so,” Kris says, because what is there to say? “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”

“No, dearie,” Toriel says, depositing one plate in front of them and stroking through their hair. “It’s not a stupid question, not at all. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Kris smiles at her, but it’s not a real smile. It never is, anymore. Not with _them_ around. They eat in silence.

* * *

“I thought you said you’d leave me alone.” They’re back in the void. Never-ending. Cold. White. Empty, if it wasn’t for _them._

 _“I said I would leave for the night,”_ the faceless being says.

“Of course.”

_“We’ve been fighting for way too long.”_

“Then why don’t you just leave?” It’s not really a question. Kris is tired of this, of charades and pretending to be something they’re not. Having a SOUL that is not their own. “Look for someone else, someone better suited. Someone who won’t mind.” 

_“I don’t want to,”_ they simply say. Their posture is unnaturally rigid. _“You know I’m going to win eventually. No matter how much you struggle.”_

They’re right, most likely. It doesn’t sound much like a threat, more like a factual statement. There are no shadows in this place, just the brightness. “Who are you? Why me?”

The being that isn’t Kris but pretends to be them smiles again. Kris is not sure how they can tell it’s smiling when the being doesn’t even have a face.

_“I’m someone. And you hold all the keys.”_

“What keys?” they begin to ask, but the dream is already fading away.

* * *

Twilight is shining through the windows as Kris sits down on a sack of soil. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s just… there. They don’t care much.

“It’s nice of you to spend time with your old man,” Asgore says, tending to his flowers. They seem remotely familiar, but Kris can’t quite place their importance yet. Only time will tell, it seems. “How is your mother doing?”

“She’s doing okay,” they say, because that’s the truth. Maybe she misses Asgore. Maybe she doesn’t. She doesn’t talk much about it. Maybe it’s for Kris’ sake. Maybe for her own. They look around the run-down place instead.

_(something heavy is sitting on their chest. dizzy. they feel dizzy. or lightheaded? what’s the difference? they really don’t know. they’re just tired. they’re so tired)_

“That’s good to hear,” he says, although there is a certain kind of sadness is his voice and his breathing gets funny for a moment. It’s over in an instant, however. Back to the same old. “I’m glad you and your mother are doing fine.”

They’re almost tempted to ask how Asgore is doing, but they don’t. There’s no point in that.

Asgore doesn’t remember.

They don’t stay for much longer.

* * *

_“Honestly, I don’t care how much you hate me. Or how often you try to get rid of me. Everything I do scares you.”_

They’re right, but Kris doesn’t want to agree with them. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction. So they just stand still, enduring this… nightmare, they suppose. What else would it be?

_“Why not call a truce?”_

Kris raises an eyebrow. “A truce?”

_“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t like. And you let me talk to them in peace.”_

They shift their weight, crossing their arms in front of their chest. “Why do you care about them this much?” They’re just regular monsters, nothing out of the ordinary.

 _“You wouldn’t understand,”_ they sigh, and it sounds tired. If they’re even capable of being tired. _“They owe me this much. They don’t deserve to just forget me after everything I’ve done.”_

Sounds like a grudge if Kris has ever heard of one. “Fine,” they agree, mostly because they want to get out of this world and back into their bed. “Fine, I’ll let you talk to them. In exchange for a little freedom.”

_“It’s a deal, then.”_

Their smile is chilling.

* * *

Promises are made to be broken.

The thought comes to them when the knife in their hands reflects the light as they twirl it between their fingers. “Let me in?” they ask sweetly as Sans opens the door.

The skeleton glances down, and something like recognition flashes in his eyes. “sure, kiddo,” he says, and Kris could slap him for that alone. Instead their body moves on its own when Sans steps aside.

There’s a rock on a table next to the door, they notice as they sink down into the couch’s cushions. They immediately cross their legs.

“you’re lucky my brother isn’t here,” Sans says. He’s still standing, hands in his pockets. Ridiculous slippers on his feet.

Kris _(not-Kris)_ gestures for him to take a seat. “That’s no way to treat a guest.”

Sans frowns at them, his eyes glued to the knife in their hand. “it’s a beautiful day outside,” he says instead. A deflection. “birds are singing, flowers are blooming. shouldn’t kids like you be playing outside right about now?”

They don’t react. Instead, they run their fingers over the edge of the knife. Small droplets of blood land on their clothes and the cushions. It doesn’t matter. None of these monsters really know what blood looks like. Or how to tell the difference between blood and paint. “You don’t remember. I guess I was wrong to trust you.”

“really don’t know what you’re talking about there, kiddo, but how about you just drop the knife?”

They wish they could, but they already know that won’t happen. Not when the SOUL is in control. It feels like sins crawling on their back. “I don’t want to hurt you,” they hear their own voice. “But if I don’t have any other choice, then… well. You already know what’s coming.”

Sans looks like he knows. Maybe he does. Maybe it’s a joke both of them have shared before. It doesn’t matter to Kris. They’re just an observer.

“you don’t have to do this,” Sans says in what they assume is supposed to be a soothing manner. He raises his hands. “whatever’s happening, we can, uh…”

They laugh a mirthless laugh. “I just want you to remember, that’s all.” They swing the knife around a little, as if that’ll help jog Sans’ memory. “I’ve been waiting for so long now.”

Sans takes a step back although he doesn’t look scared. “you, uh, really like swinging that thing around, huh?”

They laugh again, although it sounds a lot wobblier this time. “Is that the price I have to pay? For making all of this possible? Because I don’t want to pay it if that’s the case. It’s just like he said.” Kris doesn’t know who _‘he’_ is, and they don’t really care enough to ask, either. They just want the parasite to leave before things turn ugly really fast.

“listen,” Sans says, and to Kris’ surprise, they actually listen. “friendship. it’s really great, isn’t it? let’s just talk it out, kiddo.”

Their eyes narrow as they raise the knife again. “I won’t fall for that again.” There is bitterness to their voice, an icy feeling of dread that freezes their mind.

Sans shrugs. “well, it was worth a try. and now leave.”

Kris’ body shakes its head. “No. I need you to remember. So I know I’m not going mad.”

“kiddo, i think it’s too late for that.” There’s no malice in his words. Just like there was no malice in the being’s words. Until now, at least.

“Why don’t you understand?” they ask, tugging at the roots of Kris’ hair. It only hurts slightly. They can’t bring themselves to care. “I did everything I could! I tried your disgusting ketchup and I laughed at your stupid puns and I was nice to Papyrus because you wanted me to! I did everything and it still isn’t enough!”

Sans’ grin drops ever so slightly. “i never told you his name…”

Laughter, again. Coming from their own mouth. It sounds more like an angry sob. “You don’t need to! Because I remember! Because I have to bear the burden! And I’m tired of this! I hate it!” The knife slips out of their hands, which is probably good because it was quite close to their eyes. But it also means that they’re now unarmed. Which isn’t that good, actually.

“listen,” Sans start again, but they cut him off with a sharp glare.

“No, _you_ listen,” they hiss angrily. “Either you remember, or I’ll make you remember the hard way. I’ll kill everyone you love. Over and over and over. Until you finally remember. And I’ll start with your precious little brother. I’ll make you remember, whether you want to or not.” They huff, sucking air into their lungs.

Sans is frozen where he stands; only a small yellow-blue glimmer in his right eye is visible. “get out.”

They bolt-

_(-because no one can truly understand them, not like they understand themselves. why won’t it get better? will it stay this way forever? they don’t want to feel like this. numb and empty. they want a happy, normal life. it hurts. they want it to stop. they don’t want this anymore. it hurts so much. what can they even do? they just burden everyone around them. they’re too scared to tell anyone the truth. they’re afraid. they want help. but no one understands them. no one will come for them. they don’t matter)_

* * *

_“you ruined it!”_ they screech, and it’s almost ear-splitting. _“i had him and you ruined it!”_

Kris tries their best to keep calm and collected, but that’s hard when the being in front of him is glitching like that. When fragments of familiar faces show up in the jumbled mess, red eyes and furry ears, yellow petals and skinless bones.

_“I HATE YOU.”_

Their screams of rage are painful, barely understandable, and it almost sounds like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. Or maybe that’s just its heartbeat.

“I’m pretty sure you ruined it yourself,” Kris says instead, although they know there is no room for reasoning here. They’re mad.

_“_ _I’LL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL.”_

It’s not like they haven’t already done that. Kris turns around to leave, something they should’ve done way earlier. “Alright.”

_“_ _YOU WILL REGRET THIS.”_

They ignore the SOUL for the rest of the night, even if that’ll only serve to make the being angrier than it already is.

_(they’re already resigned to their fate. being apathetic isn’t that bad. it’s actually quite pleasant. like being underwater where every sound is muffled. it’s calm. they like it)_

_~~that’s a lie~~ _

_(They like it.)_

* * *

“How did you sleep?” Toriel asks them the next morning. “You look a little tired, my child…”

They simply smile at her, face contorted into a grimace that could almost pass as a smile. “I slept very well, Mother, thank you for your concern.”

Toriel frowns, but doesn’t inquire any further. When she leaves the room, Kris’ body moves towards the cage on its own, pulling the bedsheet away.

There’s a hole in the cage, as if something had forced its way through the bars.

**Author's Note:**

> jokes aside, this is. well. let's just say that 2020 was a shit year for everyone. not one of my proudest years for sure. and i guess that is reflected here. because i needed to vent somewhere.
> 
> but also, chara isn't the bad guy. it's you.   
> it's been you all along.


End file.
